The Night Before Graduation
by Just Funning
Summary: The night before graduation, Larry shows up on Xander's doorstep, hoping the two of them can share a memorable night before the big battle against the Mayor. Full on slash.


**I do not own the Buffy the Vampire Slayer property or any of the characters therein.**

THE NIGHT BEFORE GRADUATION

When Xander opened the door, he just stood there for a moment, staring at the person on the front stoop with a slight frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Uhm, mind if I come in?" Larry said timidly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Xander hesitated a moment before stepping aside and ushering the football player into the house. The two stood in the foyer, neither speaking, for several minutes.

"So, your parents home?" Larry finally asked.

"No, they've gone to visit my Uncle Rory in San Francisco for the weekend."

"But they'll miss your graduation tomorrow."

"Guess so," Xander said, fidgeting uncomfortably. He didn't really like talking about his family, but truth was they seemed to view him as little more than a burden. His parents certainly made no secret of the fact that his father had only married his mother because he'd knocked her up with Xander, and they seemed to blame him for their miserable marriage. And secretly, Xander was thrilled they weren't coming to his high school graduation. If family history had taught Xander anything, it was that his father would just get drunk and make a spectacle of himself. Xander had enough to worry about with battling a giant Mayor-snake-demon thingy and leading an army of high schoolers against hordes of the undead; he didn't need his family adding to the stress of the day.

"We have our work cut out for us tomorrow, huh?" Larry said with a nervous titter, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets and rocking back on the balls of his feet. "It's going to be a hell of a fight."

"Don't expect it to be easy. Never is."

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting," Larry said with a bemused laugh.

"What?"

"This is like old hat for you and your friends. You do this sort of thing all the time, I guess. Hard to get my mind wrapped around it. I mean, to everyone at school you little gang of misfits are just a bunch of geeks and… Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Xander just shrugged. He'd gotten used to be called a geek and worse after 12 years of public school; those kinds of jabs didn't even faze him anymore.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it's wild how everyone has this one view of you guys, and yet you're really like superheroes and stuff."

Xander stood a little straighter, preening a bit under the ego-stroke of Larry's words. Of course, he could have told the football player that Buffy was the real hero. Even Willow with her burgeoning witchy powers, Oz with his full-moon mojo, and Giles with his massive stores of knowledge were closer to fitting the hero bill than plain old Xander Harris. Still, he was always more than willing to do his part, small as that might sometimes be, in the fight against evil, and that had to count for something.

"This is all new to me," Larry said, walking further into the house, stopping at the mantel to stare at some disgruntled-looking family photos. "I have to admit, I'm kind of scared. Hell, I'm terrified. I haven't been this afraid since I came out to my parents. It's weird, out on the football field I have no fear, but the thought of graduation has my legs trembling like Jell-o. Why do you think that is?"

"Well, on the football field, the other players aren't typically trying to tear you apart and eat your entrails."

Larry snorted a laugh. "Obviously you've never played against the guys from West Beverly High."

"It's okay to be scared," Xander said, walking over to Larry and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's natural. It'll keep your senses and reflexes sharp. Overconfidence in battle usually leads to sloppiness, and sloppiness usually leads to a bad case of being dead."

"Wow, that word…_battle_. This really is going to be a war, isn't it?"

Xander shrugged, suddenly impressed by his own nonchalance at such life-and-death matters. Over the years such situations really had become—what had Larry called it? _Old hat_. Not that he didn't still feel afraid and sometimes entertain the fleeting notion of hiding in the basement, but he pushed past those impulses and stood firm on the higher ground with his friends.

"Best case scenario," Larry said suddenly. "Let's say we win this thing, kick the Mayor and his bumpy-faced minions all the way back to hell…there will be casualties on our side, won't there?"

"In a war, casualties are inevitable." Xander thought he sounded like his soldier persona from last Halloween. In fact, it was the knowledge he retained from that experience that was responsible for Buffy putting him in charge of leading the students in their revolt.

_If anyone heard what we were planning, they'd think we were staging another incident like happened a couple months ago in Columbine_.

Larry looked away for a few seconds, and when he turned back there were tears in his eyes. "It could be me, huh? I could be one of those casualties."

Xander was speechless. He'd never seen the football player so vulnerable before, not even in the locker room Junior year when Larry had first confessed to Xander that he was gay. Xander wanted to say something comforting, but nothing came to mind. Larry was right, he could very well be one of the casualties. As could Xander, Willow, Angel…any of them. There were no guarantees in this kind of fight.

"You must think I'm a real pussy, huh?" Larry said, wiping tears from his cheeks with the back of a hand.

"No way, man. When we approached you about what was going down, you could have refused to help, packed a bag and just left Sunnydale in the dust, but you didn't. You offered to do your part, and that's real courage."

"I don't feel very courageous. I'm always walking around school like this tough badass, partly because I don't want people thinking that being gay equals being a sissy, but you're really the tough one. Truth be told, I admire the hell out of you, Harris. I want to be like you, but…"

"But what?"

"But I don't want to die," Larry said, tears spilling anew. "My life's just starting, there's so much ahead of me, and I don't want to miss it. I mean, there are things I've never gotten to do, and now I may never get the chance."

"Like what?"

"Like this," Larry said, then he grabbed Xander and planted a rough kiss on his mouth.

Xander pushed away from the football player, putting a hand to his lips, which seemed to burn from the kiss. "Man, what are you doing?"

"Xander, I don't have time for courtship and flirtation. This may be my last night on the planet, and I want to spend it with you."

"Larry, look, I know there was some miscommunication and you think—"

"Shh," Larry whispered, stepping forward and putting a silencing finger against Xander's lips. "I know you're not ready to come out, and I'm not asking you to. This isn't about promises or labels or even what comes next. It's about right now, this minute, this night, you and me."

Larry went in for another kiss, and this time Xander didn't recoil. He didn't really respond either…at least not at first. But then he closed his eyes, parted his lips, and gave in to the sensation. Larry's kisses were hungry, his tongue probing, and Xander allowed himself to be swept away on that tide of passion. When the football player's hands strayed down to Xander's belt and started to unbuckle it, he didn't resist.

Nor did he resist when Larry took him by the hand and led him to the sofa, pushing him onto the worn cushions. Kneeling down between Xander's legs, Larry unzipped his fly slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment, then he pulled Xander's pants and underwear down to mid-thigh, exposing Xander's rigid member. Seven inches, standing at full attention, clear liquid leaking from the tip.

Xander was panting as if he'd just finished a brisk run, and with glazed eyes he looked on as Larry smiled up at him and licked his lips. "I've only done this once before," he said, sounding almost apologetic.

Then Larry took the plunge, swallowing Xander halfway down then sliding his lips slowly back up to the head before bobbing back down again. He kept repeating this, taking a little bit more each time until his nose was buried in Xander's bushy thatch of pubic hair. Xander sucked air in through his teeth and arched his back, placing both hands on the back of Larry's head and holding it in place as he began to pump his hips, thrusting down the football player's throat. Larry's mouth was so warm and wet and tight, the pleasure was so intense that it almost unbearable. Almost. If this was truly only Larry's second time at this, he was a prodigy for sure.

When Larry began stroking Xander's scrotum, Xander knew he wasn't going to be able to last. He moaned loudly and tried to push Larry away from the impending eruption, but Larry refused to be moved, wrapping his lips even tighter around the shaft and swallowing every drop of what Xander had to give.

After the crash of the orgasmic wave subsided, Xander lay back, feeling utterly drained and hollowed out. It was as if his muscles had liquefied, and he felt pleasantly exhausted, like after a heavy Thanksgiving meal with the tryptophan really kicking in.

"Sorry I didn't last longer," he mumbled.

"That's okay." Larry climbed onto the sofa next to him and kissed him deeply. Xander could taste himself on the football player's tongue, but surprisingly this didn't gross him out. He sucked at the juices eagerly.

"I want to make love to you," Larry whispered in his ear.

Xander hesitated then stammered, "I…I don't know."

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle and I've got protection."

Xander was complacent as a rag doll as Larry slowly stripped him then himself, until the two were completely naked in the dim living room. Larry's chest was large and muscular, sprinkled with dark hair. Not the chest of a boy but a man. Xander's eyes wandered down between the football player's legs. He wasn't as large as Xander, maybe six inches, but with a mushroom head that seemed impossibly big, too big. And yet Xander felt himself stiffening again at the sight of it.

"I promise I'll be gentle," Larry said again as he took hold of Xander's legs and pulled until Xander was laying flat on his back on the cushions, his bottom hanging over the edge of the sofa. Larry propped Xander's feet on his shoulders, positioning himself. He rolled on a condom he'd taken from his pants' pocket, and from a small tube of KY he squirted the thick lubricated gel onto his sheathed sword. Then he took another dollop of lube and began rubbing it across Xander's tight hole, gradually working a finger in up to the knuckle.

Xander bit his lips and let loose with a tiny squeak—of surprise or pain, it wasn't clear. The invading finger worked its way deeper inside him, joined soon by a second, and Xander gasped, feeling almost faint although everything in the room stood out with exaggerated clarity.

Larry removed his fingers and then began pushing himself slowly inside Xander, taking his time and easing it in. Xander cried out and his legs trembled like a new-born fawn on its feet for the first time. Larry paused and said, "Are you okay?"

Xander nodded.

True to his word, Larry was gentle, getting Xander used to the feeling before going all the way in. Xander's entire body was covered in sweat, and the room reeked of a man stench that was overpowering but not unpleasant. The pain was intense, but not as bad as Xander had feared. And mixed in with the pain was a feeling of equally intense pleasure as he felt himself filled and opened. He looked up at Larry, who was beautiful in the low light, his expression one of deep concentration, and Xander ran his fingers lightly through the glistening hairs of Larry's chest, pausing to tease and pinch the rose-colored nipples.

Bending Xander's legs back until his knees were practically by his ears, Larry leaned down and put his mouth on Xander's again. The two young men kissed as if their lives depended on it, like kissing was all that would keep death at bay. Clasping Larry's buttocks, Xander urged him, "Harder, you can go harder if you want."

And Larry did. Hard and deep, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh very loud in the quiet house. Both of them making animalistic grunting noises as they feasted on each other. Xander climaxed a second time, without even touching himself, and when Larry came close, he pulled out, discarded the condom with a flick of his wrist, then shot a hot copious load all over Xander's chest.

Afterwards, the two did not speak, but they did cuddle up on the sofa, kissing and letting their hands roam each other's bodies. Xander fell asleep in the football player's arms.

He awoke some hours later, just before dawn, to find himself alone. He was sticky and sore but smiling. He sat up, figuring Larry had just gone to the bathroom or to get a snack from the kitchen.

Until he found the note on the coffee table.

_Xander,_

_I can't even begin to express how much tonight has meant to me. Long after you fell asleep, I stayed up just watching you. Thinking of all the years I denied what I felt. Even after coming out, I pretended I wasn't attracted to you because you weren't "cool" enough. I was an idiot and can only hope you can forgive me. The prospect of what looms at graduation has made me face up to a lot of things, and I know what I want now. Of course, there's still the question of what you want. Just think about it, and after graduation—provided we both get through it unscathed—let's talk and figure it out together._

_Yours truly (if you want me),_

_Larry_

Xander refolded the note and held it against his chest for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he got up and headed for the bathroom. He needed to shower, dress, and get ready for war.


End file.
